Criminal Tards
by G-ChanSanKun
Summary: The BAU team is confronted with their toughest assignment yet when a kleptomaniac goes on a rampage unlike any other. Rated T for Talula Does The Hula. Read at your own risk. FIRST CHAPTER HAS BEEN RE-WRITTEN.
1. Chapter 1

_**Criminal Minds belongs to whoever created it. This particular plot, the made-up characters, and myself, belong to me.  
**_

__

* * *

"I'm home!" Natasha Daniels closed her front door carefully, hefting three heavy paper bags onto the living room table before glancing around. "Britney? Are you here?"

That was strange; there didn't seem to be any sign of them anywhere. She had hired Britney to watch her two kids, and specifically asked to keep them inside today.

"Anyone here!" she called, starting to feel nervous as she crept down the hall, the groceries forgotten.

"Britney… OH MY GOD!" she shrieked when she reached the kitchen. Britney glanced over her shoulder at Natasha. It was clear that she had been crying.

"It's terrible, Mrs. Daniels," she sobbed, burying her face into her hands, "I'm so sorry."

Natasha couldn't do anything other than stare in horror at the mess on the floor. Who could be so cruel as to do such a thing!

The police chief hung up the phone, a solemn look in his eyes.

"That's the third one this week, you know what that means."

"We have a crazy one, sir."

"Call in the BAU."

* * *

"You know, TV shows must really over-dramatize crime," Gina was spinning in her chair, wishing the BAU hadn't blocked Facebook from her work computer, "I came here expecting to go on raids and find serial killers, not fill out paperwork."

Well, she couldn't have expected much; it was hard to top battling giant, alien robots and taking down foreign crime rings. Still, she had joined the team hoping to keep a level of excitement in her life. She wasn't impressed.

"That makes the actual crime-fighting much more exciting," Prentiss remarked off-handedly, "You would get bored with raiding houses if you were always raiding houses."

"Would I? It'd be a lot more exciting, that's for sure. It'd beat signing papers all day."

Morgan, coming from the break room, placed a cup of hot cocoa on Gina's desk before sitting down at his own, reclining in his chair with his own cup of coffee in hand. "Things will pick up eventually," he reassured the newbie, acknowledging her grateful grin, "When it does, you'll wish you _only_ had to fill out paperwork. In the meantime, use the free time to enjoy yourself. There's a bar we all like to go to. You should come."

"Too late for that," the agents glanced up to see JJ walking into the room, a grim expression on her face, "We've got a case. And it's a bad one."

That was how Gina found herself sitting in the conference room with the rest of the team. It was strangely quiet as JJ entered, passing the case file to Hotch, the nearest person.

"Three families have been hit so far," she explained. Gina observed the expressions of her cohorts as they each looked through the information. Judging from the looks on their faces, it really _was_ a bad one. As Morgan handed her the file, she excitedly wondered what kind of gore she's see…  
"… _what_ the _hell_," her voice was blunt, "You can't be serious right now."

"This is a very serious situation," Hotch spoke up, still looking unnerved by what he had seen; "We have never dealt with anything like this. It's very clear this unsub isn't going to stop until they're caught."

Gideon was the first to stand. "It's a race against time folks. Get you gear. The plane's gonna leave in ten minutes."

Gina sputtered on the hot chocolate that she had only begun taking a sip from. "Ten minutes? We won't even have time to pack!"

"If we were doing this my way, we'd be leaving in 30 seconds," Gideon's voice was steely as he left the room, the rest of the group sans Gina following. She could only stare after them in shock.

"THE AIRPORT'S FIFTEEN MINUTES AWAY!"

* * *

**A/N: I rewrote this because when I re-read the first chapter, I realized it didn't come out like I intended. I think this is a better start. NICE reviews (even if they're critical; I love writing tips) are appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Criminal Minds belongs to whoever created it. This particular plot, the made-up characters, and myself, belong to me.**_

* * *

**As the scene of the plane flying in the sky fades in, the audience hears the voice of Jason Gideon. The man is wise beyond his years, and considering how many years he's been alive, that's a lot of wisdom.**

"_Cookie Monster once said, 'C is for cookie, and that's good enough for me.'"_

"Move that rook right there, Reid," Gina mumbled, watching the game like a hawk, "Actually, don't take any of my advice. I don't think I remember how to play this game."

Reid glanced over at her briefly before moving the bishop. "How did you get here anyway, Gina?" he asked, sincerely curious.

"I had a good resume. I guess saving the world from giant robots can land you a job pretty much anywhere."

"Have you had your firearms training yet?"

"Oh yea, you didn't hear about my stint in Paris? Haha! I made a mess of things, ohhhhh boy. But yea, I know how to shoot a gun. My assessment was pretty much a breeze."

Reid decided that the topic was probably something he didn't want to pursue, and moved his knight, smiling slightly as he declared "Check."

Gideon smirked in response. "That was good," he replied, moving his rook, "Checkmate."

Both Gina's and Reid's jaws dropped. The former was amazed, while the latter was confused.

"Don't worry Reid, you'll get it."

"H-how did you do that?" Gina asked, "That was… I didn't even see that com… well… I guess I wouldn't see that coming, since I suck at chess."

Gideon chuckled slightly. "Wanna learn?"

Eagerly, she nodded, switching seats with Reid as Gideon set up the board once again.

...

"So far, we only have one lead..." JJ said clicking her clicker to go to the next image, "A shattered, empty cookie jar was found at each of the three crime scenes, as well as several cookie crumbs scattered on the floor. There were no signs of forced entry at any of the crime scenes."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, before nodding, "So the unsub can break in to people's houses without a trace… this is pretty serious..."

Reid spoke up. "About 98% of all cookie thieves are actually young children between the ages of 6 and 10, and most of the time they're the ones behind the theft in their own homes."

"So if that's the case, then why are we even here?" Gina grumbled irritably.

"Gina has a point," Emily added, "What if these cookie burglaries are just coincidental? All the houses hit had children living in them."

"That's what I thought at first, but I took a look at the reports," Gideon grabbed a file off the top of the pile, pulling out each incident report, "The kids were all supervised, and no one was known to be in the kitchen at the approximate time of the burglary."

Gina shook her head slowly, "This makes no sense. Why would someone break in to someone's house just to steal cookies? You can buy a ton of packages of the things at any grocery store."

"It could be a demonstration of power, and control," Morgan spoke up, "This unsub knows they're good at stealing, and knows they can't get caught."

"So what, they're saying 'Ha, I stole your cookies and you can't do anything about it'?" Gina asked incredulously, "That's ridiculous!"

"It's completely plausible," Reid spoke up, "A lot of criminals commit their crimes to establish that they have power."

"By stealing cookies? _Come on_."

"You can't think with a one-track mind and expect to be successful here at the BAU, Gina," Gideon spoke up, "Demographics show that all of the families hit so far are at least upper middle class. Perhaps the unsub is trying to establish power over them by taking something that people wouldn't expect to have stolen."

"Cookies are a symbol of family, and cohesion," Hotch added, "Maybe the unsub has something against that."

"Or maybe the unsub's just too broke to afford buying cookies and decided to steal them instead," Gina replied sarcastically, making a big show of rolling her eyes.

"It's possible. With a case of this magnitude, we can't rule out anything."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Gina let her head fall and hit the table. Morgan rubbed her back soothingly.

"We have to consider everything before we can narrow it down," he reassured her, "Don't worry, we'll figure it out soon enough."

He glanced over at Hotch. "When are we going to check out the crime scenes?"

"Right now," was Hotch's prompt reply as he stood up, "We're going to split up into three teams of two. JJ will stay and coordinate with local law enforcement. Reid, you're with Gideon. Prentiss, you're coming with me. We'll hit the first house. Gina and Morgan, you two can go to the house that was most recently hit."

...

"What a mess," Morgan observed. The cookie jar was still in pieces on the floor, along with a mess of crumbs.

Gina rolled her eyes. "Yea, I bet the crumbs are chocolate chip," she replied sarcastically.

"It looks like oatmeal raisin to me."

Gina rubbed her temples vigorously.

"Come on, let's keep looking around," with that, Morgan stood up, surveying the scene, "Judging from the amount of cookie on the floor, it's likely that the unsub ate them here before leaving. Now… if I was the unsub, why would I want to eat the cookies here instead of simply taking them and eating them later?"

"Maybe they were hungry," was Gina's reply. Her sarcasm just kept coming.

"Maybe they took their time thinking the house was empty. Or maybe… they ate in a hurry knowing that there were people in the house… the unsub must get a rush of some sort by taking such a risk."

"Let's just skip to the part where we figure out how the unsub broke in," Gina _really_ didn't want to continue delving into the ridiculousness more than they had to.

Morgan hummed in agreement. "The unsub knew someone was in the house. They probably spent several days observing the family's routine before they actually struck. It would be too risky to just go in randomly."

"Well, the mother works until 4:30pm," Gina chimed in half-heartedly while glancing over the notes from the interviews, "The babysitter watches the kids when they get out of school at 3 o'clock. The day of the crime, the mother came back an hour later than usual because she went grocery-shopping."

"That gives the unsub two and a half hours to enter."

Gina gave him a strange look. "Only two and a half?"

"The unsub ate in a hurry. They were in the house while the kids and babysitter were home. The crime occurred before the mother returned from work. That gives the unsub a two and a half hour window to strike."

"Okay, so what does that tell us about method of entry?" Gina asked, glancing around at the windows.

Morgan smirked. "You tell me."

Gina was thrown off-guard by that one. She wasn't expecting her colleague to put her on the spot. Nevertheless, she didn't want to let him down, so she took a moment to study the area they were standing in. "Well…" she answered hesitantly, "They'd want to come in at a point in the house farthest from the kids and babysitter, but they'd want to be as close to the cookies as possible. If Britney's account of what happened is true, the unsub would have to come into the kitchen directly."

Morgan patted her shoulder, causing her to blush slightly. "Good girl."

The man walked over to the window, his surroundings fading slightly as his mind's eye became the viewer's eye. A shadow could be seen lurking by the kitchen window as he approached, studying it intensely. "The window isn't broken," he observed aloud. The shadow pulled a screwdriver out of their pocket and began working to detach the screen, "Whoever this person is, they were very careful about being quiet. The unsub must have detached the screen and opened the window from the outside."

Gina walked over to the door, "Or they could've let themselves in."

"What makes you think that?"

The woman rolled her eyes, twisting the knob and opening the door effortlessly. "The door's _unlocked_."

Abruptly, Morgan's CG scenario was completely wiped off the face of the planet.

...

"What have we got?" Hotch asked once everyone had settled into their seats in the makeshift conference room.

"The unsub doesn't appear to care about whether their identity is discovered," Prentiss spoke up, "I lifted a partial print from one of the cookie jar fragments, but it's really smeared."

Morgan leaned towards the phone, which was on speaker. "Any luck baby girl?"

"Nothing yet. Either this partial is too smeared to take, or the prints aren't in the database. I'll run the demographics tests on it and see if I can get some more information on our thief," replied the BAU's tech analyst.

"Well, it's a start. Keep us posted Garcia," Hotch spoke up before turning his attention to the rest of the team, "So our unsub seems to be meticulous up until they get their hands on the cookies."

"If you call letting yourself in through the back door meticulous," Gina muttered under her breath.

"What if the unsub, at each of the locations, originally didn't intend to eat the cookies?" Prentiss suggested, "The mess left after each burglary implies impulsivity."

"Maybe it's not an impulse," Reid suddenly spoke up, "What if the cookies are some sort of trigger for an emotional response? It would explain the change from organized to disorganized in the span of seconds."

"Really? What kind of issue would cause cookies to trigger some sort of impulsive rage in a person?" Gina asked in exasperation.

"PTSD," Gideon replied.

"P… Post-traumatic stress disorder? Some incident involving cookies could cause _post-traumatic stress disorder_? How would that make any sense outside of a freak bakery accident?"

"Child abuse," Morgan supplied, "Perhaps the unsub grew up in an environment where the parents tortured them using cookies somehow."

"Oh, so our unsub is Willy Wonka. That makes all the sense in the world."

"We're not getting anywhere with this," Gideon was beginning to sound impatient, "We need to look at this case from a different angle. Let's look at the victims: why did the unsub choose these victims? What do they have in common?"

"Well, they're all upper-middle class working families," JJ replied, glancing through the files, "There are no marital discrepancies, no criminal reports from any of the members; each family appears to be happy, upstanding citizens. Demographically, the families are Caucasian, and each family has at least 2 children."

"So they're livin' the American dream," Gideon was thoughtful, "The white picket fence family: happy, successful, well paying jobs, children…"

"The unsub could feel resent towards that, what with societal pressures to be successful."

Hotch stood up. "We're ready to give the profile."

As everyone followed suit and filed out of the room, Gina looked helplessly from one team mate to the next as they left. "Wait… what's the profile_?_!"

...

"Mom, can I have a snack? I finished cleaning my room," the boy asked. His mother was relaxing on the front porch. She glanced over at him.

"Did you pick up _everything_?" she replied with a grin, standing up, "Your room has to pass inspection first."

The boy, nodded, smiling as he led his mother upstairs to his bedroom, where she picked and poked about, checking under his bed and in the closet.

"Wow Chad, I'm impressed!" his mother smiled at him once she finished looking over his room, "Yes, you can have a snack. Go get yourself some cookies! Dad should be back home soon so we can go to the park for the afternoon."

"Thanks mom!"

The woman smiled as Chad ran out of the room and raced down the stairs, leisurely heading downstairs and back towards the porch. Life, for her, was very satisfying, and she was even happier that her youngest was as well-behaved as he was.

She was just about to let herself back outside when she heard Chad yell, in a slightly panicked voice; "MOM!"

Maternal instincts kicked in, and she dashed into the kitchen, praying her son wasn't hurt. The mess she arrived to stopped her in her tracks. "Oh my God…" she breathed.

Chad was kneeling next to it, looking absolutely terrified. "I didn't do this, Mom," he whispered as she knelt next to him and embraced him comfortingly.

...

"Our unsub is a white male between the ages of 40 and 50. He'll be of average height but a slightly heavier build," Morgan began the briefing, "He doesn't have the best diet, but he's in well enough shape to move quickly."

"He has a sweet tooth, and he probably drinks, maybe even smokes," Gideon continued, "He comes across as normal, typical at first glance, but those who know him would describe him as temperamental and selfish. He probably has a lot of siblings, and he's probably one of the runts, if not the youngest. He's used to having things taken from him, or not shared with him, so once he gets his hands on something, like the cookies, he'll keep it to himself."

"The unsub is part of the lower-class population. He lives and/or works in or near the area, probably in a blue-collar occupation," Reid added, "We believe that, because of his low-income situation, he holds resentment towards those who are more successful, and feels that he has been ostracized by the middle-class community. Because of this, he believes that he's right to steal from them, since they don't share their success with him."

...

Nick Christianson walked down the hall into his room, one towel wrapped loosely around his hips, the other he used to rub his damp hair.

"You done in the shower?" he vaguely heard his girlfriend calling from the living room.

"Yea! How long have you been here?"

"Hold on a sec…"

She was probably on the phone. Maybe checking up on her mom, like she did from time to time. He'd never stop loving that sweet, dedicated side of her.

His lips spread slightly in a small side as he began to think about the date night they had planned for later that evening. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he was so excited, he felt giddy.

That was before he heard his girlfriend's startled shriek, now coming from the kitchen. Immediately he went into defense mode; her safety was of the utmost important. One hand clutched tightly around his towel, he sprinted through the house to the kitchen, where his shaken, yet agitated, girlfriend stood over a pile of broken glass.

"What the hell_?_!" she cried indignantly upon his arrival, "I _just_ brought them home!"

...

"This unsub won't be a danger at first, so we must be careful to avoid provoking him," Hotch quietly addressed the police force, "There's a chance, however, that he may go on the attack if he feels like he's pushed into a corner, so we must stay vigilant. I want as many of you patrolling the streets as you can spare. Thank you."

With that, the group stood up from their various seats around the station and dispersed to begin organizing patrols. Hotch turned to face his team mates.

"We need to start going through employer lists of male blue-collar workers and begin to narrow down a list of suspects," he carefully instructed, noticing Gina and JJ approaching them. The blonde had a grim expression on her face, and when they turn to face her for the news, they quickly found out why.

"Two more houses have been hit," she informed the group.

"Already?"

"Actually… they were within minutes of each other. They're neighbors."

Gideon and Hotch shared a knowing glance.

"If he's already stepping up to twice a day, that means he's growing confident with his skills," Gideon observed thoughtfully.

"Or maybe his appetite's gotten bigger," Gina muttered under her breath.

"It's only going to get worse from now on," Hotch glanced around the group as he spoke, "Prentiss and I will take one of the crime scenes. Reid and Gideon can take the other. The rest of you need to start narrowing down suspect lists."

* * *

**A/N: I don't know why this took me forever to get out, but I'm glad I finally did. Drastic improvement from the original idea I had, that's for sure! Hope you enjoy and reviews are appareciated, so long as they're not dickish :)**


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